Neanderthal Seeks Human(30)
Carlos broke the silence, “Ms. Morris, the job is yours if you’d like it.”
“Oh, please say yes.” Steven’s smile widened.
“To the proposal or the job?” I asked.
“If you have to pick one, to the job.” Steven handed the iPad to me then reached out his hand to shake mine again, “I snore and you’re too tall, we’d divorce within a year.”
I laughed, stood, and shook his hand, not minding that he’d remarked on my height. “Fine then, I accept the job.” I turned to Carlos, who was also standing at this point, “Although, I’d like to see a job description; I’d like to make sure I can actually do the job you’ve apparently hired me for.”
Carlos gave me another disarming dimpled smile which could only be described as adorable; “Of course. You get settled in with Steven and I’ll have Olivia email it to you.” He came around the desk and, like before, shook my hand with both of his, “And if you have any questions please don’t hesitate to come find me.”
~*~
It was decided that, instead of meeting at Kat’s apartment for knitting night, as it was her turn, we were all to meet for drinks then dinner at South Water Kitchen for a Janie-is-once-again-able-to-pay-income-taxes celebration. It was a Tuesday, it was the second day at my new job, and it was exactly two weeks since my worst-day-ever.
Almost immediately upon settling into our seats, Elizabeth introduced the subject of Quinn along with Friday night, monkeys, naked cage dances, Saturday morning McHotpants breakfast, and the business card that led to my new job by saying:
“You all remember McHotpants, the security guard? Well, Janie and I saw him at that new club where the naked ladies dance with the monkeys, his name is Quinn, and she went home with him after being drugged. They had breakfast together Saturday and he got her the interview for her new job.”
It was like throwing Hustler magazines at sex addicts. After a two second lull of stunned silence, everyone started talking excitedly at once. Elizabeth sent me a sweet smile over her ice water.
The entire first half hour of the evening was consumed by me regaling the ladies with the events of my weekend plus the Monday non-interview job interview. A few questions, largely relating to trivial clarifications, interrupted my story but mostly they sat and listened with a grave, almost reverential silence. Every time the waiter came by to take our order Sandra and Ashley would shoo him away by demanding wine with quiet, urgent whispers.
As I neared the end of my story I could feel the tension building in the group; I sensed that they were restless with questions but Elizabeth seemed to have an agenda and, when I finally reached my conclusion, she interjected:
“This is what I don’t understand: how did Quinn know you were up in the Canopy room? Or did he? Did he go up there to get you or did he just happen to go up there? And is that why he was suddenly like ‘you need to leave’ when he found out the Canopy room people bought us drinks? He must have known the people up there were shady. And- furthermore- since we suspect that you were slipped something, what is to be done about it?”
She glowed with an almost Sherlock Holmes-esque satisfaction and sat back in her seat while the group speculated on her questions. Undeniably, Elizabeth seemed to have given the entire encounter a great deal more thought than I.
Although I tended to obsess about topics like the English vernacular, the height of the average Brazil nut tree, and international date standards, I had a habit of ignoring important details like who drugged me and how did I feel about blacking out only to wake up mostly naked in a strange apartment with seven pieces of furniture.
I shivered a little, feeling the weight of my recklessness and truly understanding how dangerous of a situation I’d been in. Likewise my stomach flipped at the thought of Quinn finding me, carrying me out the second story room, and taking me to his sister’s place all the while I was blacked out.
Maybe I wouldn’t need to be rescued, escorted, or coddled so much if I focused on actually important details rather than dreaming up an appropriate collective noun for every plural eventuality.
In the end I promised the ladies I would attempt to corner Quinn when I saw him at work, question him about the Canopy room co-op, as well as actions taken to ensure the safety of unsuspecting female guests in the future. The waiter reappeared and, thankfully, most eyes moved to their menus giving me a reprieve from the hour long investigation into my weekend.
“Have you seen him yet? In the office I mean?” Marie, who was immediately to my left, leaned toward me and fixed me with her bright blue eyes.
“Quinn? No, today was only my second day. Mostly, I just filled out paperwork, met with lawyers, and settled into my office-”